Chapter 8 - Beneath the Oak Tree
The original Solmere Hotel stood eighty miles north of Manhattan.
Unlike the glass towers the company later built, the first property looked almost unchanged from Charlotte’s childhood.
Red brick.
White columns.
Green shutters.
And behind it, the enormous oak tree.
Charlotte arrived before dawn with Grant and Lydia.
The stone bench remained exactly where Charlotte remembered.
They searched beneath it.
Nothing.
Grant examined the tree.
Charlotte saw three letters carved into the bark.
S.
M.
C.
Her fingers traced them.
A memory returned.
Samuel kneeling beside her when she was seven.
“When the world gets confusing, Charlie, always start where the roots are.”
Roots.
Charlotte dropped to her knees.
The soil near the eastern root looked darker than the rest.
Grant fetched a shovel.
Twenty minutes later, metal struck metal.
They uncovered a sealed steel box.
Charlotte’s hands trembled as she opened it.
Inside were legal documents wrapped in waterproof plastic.
The original Solmere partnership agreement.
Samuel owned twenty-five percent.
Eleanor owned twenty-five.
Victor owned twenty-five.
Richard owned twenty-five.
Then came a second document.
Victor Harrington had surrendered his shares in 2004.
Not sold them.
Surrendered them under a confidential settlement after “material criminal misconduct.”
Samuel’s shares transferred to Eleanor after his death.
Eleanor therefore controlled seventy-five percent.
Richard had twenty-five.
Charlotte inherited Eleanor’s entire interest.
Seventy-five percent.
Enough to remove Richard immediately.
Lydia smiled.
“This ends it.”
Charlotte kept reading.
“No.”
Her expression changed.
“It begins it.”
A handwritten letter rested beneath the contract.
My darling Charlotte.
If you found this, Richard has probably betrayed me.
Do not trust appearances.
Victor is dangerous, but he is not the only one.
Someone close to you has helped them for years.
Someone you love.
Charlotte read the sentence again.
Grant looked over her shoulder.
“Who?”
The letter continued.
I discovered the truth too late.
I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you would never forgive me.
The person responsible for Samuel’s death was not Victor.
Charlotte stopped breathing.
Her father’s death.
For twenty years, Eleanor had believed Victor responsible.
Apparently, she had learned otherwise.
Charlotte turned the page.
The next sheet was missing.
Someone had opened the box before them.
Fresh scratches marked the lock.
Lydia stepped backward.
“We were followed.”
A branch snapped behind them.
Grant turned.
A figure stood between the trees.
Charlotte recognized him immediately.
Ethan Shaw.
Her childhood best friend.
The man she had loved before leaving New York.
The man she had not seen since her mother’s funeral.
Ethan raised both hands.
“Charlotte, I can explain.”
She stared at the torn envelope in his hand.
The same envelope that belonged inside the steel box.
“Give me the page.”
Ethan shook his head.
“You don’t want to read it.”
Charlotte’s voice became dangerously calm.
“Give me the page.”
Tears filled his eyes.
“Because once you know who killed your father.”
May you like
He swallowed.
“You’re going to wish you never came home.”
